The Protest: Roger Edition
by streco
Summary: It's my first day out of the flippin' house, and I've already gotten into a RIOT? Jesus, all I want to do is live a normal ninja life, and I'm going to DIE whenever I leave the house![Roger's first day outta the house. his POV: Will I? through OTM.]
1. Will I?

1_**Christmas Day: Roger Edition**_

**A/N: **From the in-depth, creative, spectacular mind of Roger Davis, I bring you Christmas Day: Roger Edition. This one I am **not** collaborating with Sara, so it probably won't be nearly as funny. See, I'm the brains, she's the hilarity. She's my better half (she's said the same about me, so I guess we're both pretty pathetic).

This story will go from "Will I?" all the way to "La Vie Boheme B," AKA Roger's first day out. I noticed once when watching the movie that the first day he goes out he manages to A) Get yelled at by a homeless lady, B) Get into a _riot_, of all things, C) Dance on tables, D) Say the word "To" a _lot_, E) Find out that his lover has AIDS (egad!) F) Play in the snow! and G) Say a lot of naughty words :)

So I decided to put it into a story.

By the way, Roger calls Angel "it" for a bit of this chap, just because for a little bit he doesn't know what to call her. This is not my feelings towards transvestites, Angel is a she as far as I'm concerned, so he will come around eventually. –kicks Roger– DORK!

Also, I realize I'm going out of order. Well, Sara and I have yet to reunite for "Another Day: Roger's Way" and I couldn't wait to post this. You MAY want to read Light My Candle: Roger Style if you haven't already done so. THANKS :)

READ "That Face" by Mark'sMaureen or DIE!

1. Will I?

_SPEEEEEEAAAAAK._

"Mark, Roger, it's Benny. Um, look, you still have a few hours to stop Maureen's protest... my offer expires after dark."

Stupid Benny. I hate him. And Mark, too, I hate him. I hate the world. Stupid people. Benny wants us to stop Maureen's protest—yeah, okay, we can't do that without Maureen pouncing and then like gouging our eyes out with her Cat-tastic wonderessness.

"Hey," Mark greeted, walking over to me awkwardly. _Awkwardly? _Things between us are never _awkward._

"Hmm," I responded, very rhyme-conscious while my mouth was still in my coffee cup. Well, there wasn't any music playing, so I figured I could let it slide for this time. For a moment, Mark and I sat across from each other, me seriously considering throwing the banana on the windowsill next to me at his face, but restraining myself not to.

_Do it, _the banana peel told me, reaching out to me, _do it, do it, do it. Throooooooow meeeeeee. _

"About last night—"

"I don't wanna talk about it," I cut off childishly. Stupid, naive Mark. Didn't he know I was Roger and I was gonna shun him?

_Oooh, shunning Mark? Throoooooooooow meeeeeeeee. Throw me at the stupid Mark. At the Silly Mark, do it, do it, do it, DOOOOOO IIIIIIIIT—_

"You know, Mimi's gonna be at Maureen's show tonight," _NO! _Just hearing her name made me shake and shiver and... blech. "You should come," he tried to convince me very weakly, and I _really _wanted to slam that stupid banana right in his face. "I'd hate to see you pass up something that could be good for you."

_GOOD FOR YOU? Oooh, Roger, whatcha gonna do about Mark basically owning you right there? Oooh, what's he, your mommy? Since when has this whiteass been the master of what's "good for you"? _Instead of whipping out my karate moves on the stupid banana peel, I laughed, _Silly Mark. _

"You'll only regret it."

Pfft. "I'll live," and I took a sip of my coffee, like I was the all-knowing Cobra Commander of this conversation and he was just the mere Optimus Prime.

"Right." Was he second-guessing my living abilities or something? He nodded and stood up, obviously disgraced that I was being the way I was. I watched him leave with his stupid little camera that he tows around everywhere, and I waited for a moment, just staring out the window as I pictured Life Support. Mark sitting around and filming it all, barging in on these people who really needed help, and what was he, a fucking cameraman? No.

_Ooh, Mark totally got to you. You want to go, Roger, you wanna go, throoooooow me and then you'll go... throooooooooooow me Roger, do it, do it, throooow me! You know you want to! Throoooo—_

Then, angrily I stood up and threw the banana peel across the loft, cackling as it hit the floor and didn't bother me again. "Stupid banana peel! I have conquered you! I am the Cobra Commander! I have conquered you!" Once I was finished yelling at it, I jumped down from the ledge of the window and paced around for a while.

"Life Support, no Life Support. Life Support, no Life Support. Okay, Roger, let's do some pros and cons. Pros. Maybe get a little bit of your angstiness ventilated. Okay, that's good. Um... maybe Mark will get off your back about the protest and maybe you won't have to go if you go out today. Um... and maybe something really bad could happen to you and you won't _have _to go to the protest!"

Then I sat down on the couch. "Okay, cons. Cons. Um... cons... what are the cons... the cons of going to Life Support..." I became frustrated. "THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING BAD ABOUT GOING TO LIFE SUPPORT!" Then I decided, well, there really isn't. "Aww, screw it!" and I ran out of the loft...

...before running right back in.

Then, just for the record, I shouted, "I'm _not _schizophrenic!" and ran back out the door.

When I was walking down the cold street, my head down, trying not to forget how to breathe, I started hearing music and was frankly scared. No, not more rhyming! I was already losing my rhyme juice, after _all _of that rhyming with Mimi...

When I opened the door to Life Support, I was overjoyed by seeing that the rhyming had already begun, and I could just hop in whenever I wanted to. "Will I lose my dignity, will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare—" I stopped. _Waaaaaaaaaaait a second. What was _

_this? Will I lose my dignity? Hmmm. Good question._

I hopped back in where I had left off, suddenly very glum and sad and depressed about the world. "Will I lose my dignity, will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?" And I just held 'mare,' as I saw that everyone was going to be ending soon and I didn't want to be stuck on an awkward rhyme for the end.

Then Life Support ended and for some reason, everyone was congratulating me, and I just stayed mellow. _Stupid world. _When I got outside, Collins was like, "I am _so_ glad you came, man. I'm proud of you." I just choked out a joking, whatever, Thanks," as Mark practically ran down the stairs with his camera, finding something interesting to film.

It was only then that I noticed how cold it had gotten. _Holy shit, it got cold! It's cold! Oh, my God, global—... icing! Global icing, holy shit, oh my God, me coming outside has totally thrown off the balance of the world. _I went to turn and run but Collins grabbed my arm and kept me there.

I just kind of hung around next-to-behind him and then, out of _nowhere_—"Who do you think _you _are?"

_AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_ There was this _SCARY LADY _right in front of Mark! Part of me wanted to jump in front of him and protect him—she was so _scary!—_but I decided to let Mark fend for himself... and if it was necessary I'd protect my own life and possibly Angel's, since she was the hypothetical girl of the situation... I think?

"I don't need no goddamn help from some bleeding heart cameraman, my life's not for you to make a _name _for yourself on." Ooh, she swore! I was going to call her out on that. Scary swearing lady!

"Easy, sugar, easy," Angel said sweetly, in that charming way it has. What? I'm not sure what Angel is... wouldn't it be the popular pronoun? "He was just trying to—"

"Just trying to use me to kill his guilt!" The lady shouted, making me jump. Collins looked at me, concerned, but I looked down at my boots. "It's not that kinda movie, honey! This lot is _full _of artists!" Well, we weren't exactly on a _lot_... we were on a _street_... but that's okay... I guess... "Hey, artist, you got a dollar?"

NOW SHE WAS TRYING TO ROB MARK! And he _did _have money—the money that Angel had given us, unless he already blew that on _what_, rubber ducky bath toys and new scarves! And not to mention pet sea monkeys! Mark did _not _know how to save his money!

I licked my chops like I was going to attack and kill her. But Mark just kind of stood there stupidly and then the lady shook her head, disgraced, and said, "Didn't think so." We stood there dumbly, Angel shooting the woman looks of "ARHGHGHHARGHH!" Collins just kinda like "Oh man we did _not _just get owned by a homeless old fat lady" and Mark still kind of in shock, scared, like he wanted to curl up in a corner and die.

We left and practically ran to the subway stop—just because it was so freaking _cold _out—and then I was hearing music again... "Shit, rhyming time," I muttered beneath my breath.

"What, Roger?"

"Um... shit, climbing mime!" I covered. "It's my new song... 'Shit, climbing mime... such a pretty sight! I love the climbing mime... he's lovely and... white?'"

Silence.

I kept my head down and kept walking.

**A/N:** Hahaha, next is Santa Fe.

REVIEW!

–Steph.


	2. Santa Fe

1**A/N: **Wow, I got this written fast.

I'm glad you guys liked the first chapter... enter Ninja powers!

2. Santa Fe

"New York City," Angel began, walking down the steps in its very fashionable heels and leggings combo (I was gonna have to get a pair myself, I put it on my to do list).

"Uh-huh," Mark confirmed, still obviously embarrassed about what the scary lady had done. Great. Now he was possibly scarred for life, he was going to need a therapist, he blew _all of his money _on microscopic floating _dots—_we were in a screwy position. I was going to sue. We had Joanne as a lawyer.

"Center of the universe."

"Sang it, girl!" Collins insisted.

_Girl. Okay. Angel's a girl._

"Times are shitty," _she _(I love my new vocabulary) prompted, "but I'm pretty sure they can't get worse."

Collins did some odd maneuver with his hands, almost like he was pressing his palm into my face from about a foot away, so I thought that was my cue to say something. "I hear that," I chose my words carefully, trying to sound like I was a Homie G from the Hood. Then Collins was doing some other odd things, and I looked away for a moment before staring at him like he was a freak.

He did something else that was weird—pretended to drive a nail into my shoulder, maybe?—and then he stood aside and ushered all of us into the subway. "It's a comfort to know," Angel told Mark, O One Who Is Scarred, "when you're singing the hit-the-road blues, that anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be..." she got inside and blew on the window—I was instantly reminded of Mimi fogging up _our _stupid window—"A pleasure cruise."

I ran a hand through my lovely locks of lust, knowing full well what was about to happen.

Collins got in. "Now you're _talking!_"

Mark was just climbing in as the subway screamed to a start, so he basically flew across me into his seat. I put an arm across his torso to keep him from falling anymore—we didn't need him physically scarred as well—and then a few minutes later he took the arm off. "I'm okay, Roger."

"Right." Then I was back to my "screw the world" motto.

Then I realized that Angel had rhymed and damned myself to hell. _COME _ON_! Can't I catch a BREAK? _But Collins took center stage on this. "Well, I'm thwarted by a metaphysic puzzle, and I'm sick of grading papers that I know..." he screwed up his face and brought his hands to his temples. He looked like he was stoned... quite a possibility. "I'm shouting in my sleep, I need a muzzle, and all this misery pays no salary, so..."

I had no idea what he'd just said, but I thought it was pretty snazzy.

Next to me Mark opened his man purse and took out his camera, winding the stupid little contraption up. Meanwhile, Collins bent down to pick up a cup—missing at first, I resisted the urge to point and tease him—and he held it out. "Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe." Digging in my pocket for quite a while, I finally came up with a coin and put it in the cup.

"Sunny Santa Fe would be—" his eyes went wide and I was afraid he was having a heart attack for a moment, but it was just that he loved the single coin I gave him, "—nice!" he flipped the coin back to me and I skillfully caught it with two hands, bracing myself so I wouldn't fall over and kill myself.

Mark looked at me and muttered, "Nice catch," and I laughed for a moment with him.

"We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe and leave this to the roaches and the mice! Wooooah!" And—get this—he started _pole dancing. _Tom Collins, anarchist slash professor slash college graduate was, yes, that's right, _pole dancing. _And he was sober! And Mark got it all on film. Then, stupid Mark, being the stupid Mark that he is, had to switch seats and add a _harmony _to it, because that's all he _ever _does!

Collins spun around the pole like the little kid at heart he was, and I gave him a high five. I recoiled my hand slowly, trying not to cry because of how hard he _slapped _it. High fives are a playful past time, they aren't supposed to make your hand turn bright red and bring you to tears! Wicked, stupid Collins.

"You teach?" Angel asked as I turned my gaze to the person next to me. I sent them an _I don't know who these people are, the last place I want to be is here _glance and they nodded, but then turned away, seemingly frightened.

"Yeah, I teach," Collins told her, "Computer-age philosophy. But my students would rather watch TV." He was laughing now, giddily, and I was seriously questioning his sanity. A woman sat down next to Angel, reading her stupid little book, obviously not phased by Collins' outrageous dancing, like she saw this everyday. _Maybe she's a shrink._

"America," Angel put her hands out to her sides.

"America," Mark and Collins agreed. I was still yet to be included on these festivities.

"You're a sensitive aesthete," I think he was talking to Mark, but he didn't look at him, "brush the sauce onto the meat." He looked over his shoulder at me. "You could make the menu sparkle with rhyme."

Inside of me, I did a little dance. _FINALLY _someone was noticing my rhyming abilities! Finally! Collins just basically told me that I was such an amazing rhymer, I could make the _menu _rhyme! That's the most important part of a restaurant, the menu! If you don't have the menu, you suck! Outside, though, I played it cool—I just nodded, like, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

"You can drum a gentle drum!" he jumped off of the seat he'd been sorta standing on, "I can seat guests as they come, chatting not about Heidegger, but wine!" He walked by us and did some freaky ballet moves—how did he _know _these things? "Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe," he repeated, pulling himself up on the poles and kicking his legs. "Our labors would reap financial gains."

He pointed to Mark, and then to Angel, and then to me—we all repeated gains, and then I turned and looked at Mark—behind him, that freaky woman with the book was gone! Holy _shit_, she had _disappeared! _Oh, my God, I wanted to get off that subway as fast as I could.

Then I noticed the color of the windows, how dark and tinted they were. _Maybe if I dressed up like a ninja..._ I thought, _you wouldn't be able to see me! _

"We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe," he strayed dangerously close to the vicinity of my hair, and save from devastation our brains!" he shook my head with his hands, on my _HAIR_, and I held onto his forearms with my own hands. He was looking at me, grinning, trying to make me happy, but I closed my eyes.

Finally, I started rhyming with them. Whatever. "We'll pack up all our junk and fly so far away, devote ourselves to projects that sell!" Angel joined Collins in the pole dancing fanatics, and Mark followed with his camera, so I put my feet up on Mark's ex-seat, watching them. Then I turned my head—THERE WAS THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN!

She was back! Oh, man, not only was she back, but she had her book again! I was starting to get terrified of this odd woman. _Don't look at her, Roger... _I looked back at the windows, picturing myself as a ninja, not being seen. _You are a ninja... no one can see you... _I told myself. Now the public couldn't see me, because I was a ninja.

_Ninja ray, _on I told myself. Good, now no one could see me.

But then I got scared and turned it off—what if Mark called the cops or something? "We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe—aaaaaaaah, hell." Ah, hell? What are we saying that for? Wooah, woah, woaaaaaah."

Then, in a flash, all of them were back at my seat, so I took my feet away and turned myself forward. Collins sat next to me, and then Angel, and then Mark, winding up his stupid camera again, and then Collins' arm was around my shoulder. "Do you know the way to Santa Fe?" No. And who said I ever wanted to open a stupid restaurant there anyway? I'd probably burn the fuckin' place down.

"You know," he put his feet up on the pole, "tumbleweeds, prairie dogs—"

"Yeah," we all finished, even though I really didn't know. I'd never been out of New York before. Hell, for a couple of years, I hadn't even been out of the _house_, and all I really wanted to do know was dress up like a ninja and dance around the subway.

We got out of the subway at this odd stop that I never knew existed, and suddenly, Mark was like, "Oh, guys, I'm late for Maureen's sound check, I gotta go!" and he saw me wanting to go back to the loft and said, "Here, you can help me," and he grabbed my arm. He _dragged _me down the street.

"Bye!" Angel called.

"Bye!" Mark responded.

Had someone hired me to be the helper? Because I don't remember volunteering myself as one. Yet, here I was, being dragged to some bull shit _sound check _that I couldn't even help at—I didn't know the first thing about them! Hell, I didn't know how to _spell _sound check, and Mark was dragging me down the street to one.

Prices to pay for being a ninja.

**A/N:** You don't know how many times I had to watch Santa Fe to get all of the choreography down. I bet I could do all of the dances backwards now.

Ahaha, next time you watch RENT, when they're coming down the steps for "Santa Fe," watch in the background and help me figure out what Collins and Roger are doing. Because it's quite odd. :)

By the way, almost everything I mentioned in here (Mark saying something to Roger after he catches the coin, Roger looking at the person next to him oddly) happens during the movie. Watch Roger very closely when you watch the movie next time, he does a lot of stupid / funny / Rogerish things.

Oh, and truth be told, even though he sings in the beginning on the soundtrack, he doesn't in the movie. He doesn't start actually singing until 'We'll pack up all our junk.' I thought that was stupid of him XD

I stole a fair share of things from the commentary. The ninja thing—Anthony and Adam talking about how the crew members were dressed like ninjas so they wouldn't reflect in the windows. The disappearing lady—Anthony mentioned that.

Well, actually, that's all I stole. :) But I don't own that.

REVIEW!

–Steph.


	3. Over the Moon

1**A/N:** Alright, guys, new plan.

I'm not going all the way to "La Vie Boheme B" on this. This will actually be the last chapter, and then me and Sara are going to recollaborate to do La Vie Boheme — La Vie Boheme B. So, this is the last chapter, and it's still just me doing it.

By the by—read our stories "Today 4 U: Roger's View" and "Another Day: Roger's Way" :)

Oh, and another thing—someone who's incredibly smart mentioned that this happens on the day _after _Christmas in the movie... yes, good point. And to that I say—oh well and whoops. This will be changed back to "The Protest: Roger Edition" :) Teehee.

Sorry such a long wait!

3. Over The Moon

Ugh. I really hate that place.

The stupid... place, I really don't know what to call it. It's where all the druggies and all the dealers hang out, the homeless people, et cetera. It's right next to the Space... and something was telling me it, I just _knew _Mimi would be there.

I initiated my ninja ray as I walked up to her, but then I took it down and she snapped over to look at me. "Hey," she said coolly.

"Hey," I replied, uneasy from being here. Sweat beaded on my forehead. "Can I talk to you for a sec—"

The Man. Ooh, just his name makes me want to murder an equestrian. The Man _shoved _me—a ninja like me! What was he thinking, I know—and responded with, "Hey, lover boy, you steal my client, you _die._" Steal his _client? _Hey, no matter how much I shunned her away, she was still officially mine, and I couldn't steal anything that was mine! (Unless I got really creative with multiple personalities.)

I resisted the urge to mock him and stepped forward, shoving him right back. "You didn't miss me, you _won't _miss her! Look around, you've got plenty of _customers!_" I don't know why I put emphasis on that word, but Mimi pushed the two of us apart and grabbed my arm, leading me away from her Dealer of Doom, the Man. Somebody find me an equestrian, I need to go murder him. Slash her. (Sorry girls.)

"Look." I started it plain and simple, right to the point. "About last night. I'm _sorry_. I don't—I don't know what the—" Apparently she didn't like to see me squirm, because she cut me off. Thank God, too, this whole apologizing thing has never been a strong subject of mine, really.

"Just forget about it," she said, taking another glance at the Man (FIND ME A HORSE RIDER, DAMMIT!).

"I was out of line," I told her, evading the word "sorry." "Can I make it up to you?" Yeah, asking people out has never exactly been my genre either.

"How?"

_Now _was when she liked to see me squirm. "A bunch of us are getting together tonight, at the Life Café, after Maureen's show." I hoped she'd get my point so I didn't have to—

"...yeah...?"

_Ooh, you suck. _I chuckled a bit, trying to sound macho. "Would you like to come with me?"

I could tell she was withholding her sheer excitement—hell_o_, it's _me_ we're talking about here—and she said. "Sure." And she grinned. "I'd like that."

We stood there for a moment and I nodded like a little school boy and nudged my head sideways, instructing her to walk with me. "So, you're a tough guy?" she asked me, making fun of my inability to talk to girls... they've always been my weakness. Half of the girls that I used to ask out would be like, "YOUR SPECIES SUCKS!" and run away in tears.

"No," I answered, laughing, partly making fun of myself as well. "Not really."

She put her fists up like she was about to fight someone. "That was pretty good," she teased. And then she laughed at me.

We got outside of that little hellish place and she giggled some more—before I spotted them. I found an excuse to put my hand on her shoulder. "Over there," I directed, "the guy with the glasses." I pointed to my eyes with two fingers, giving her a visual of what glasses were. Like she didn't know or something.

"ANGEL!" she screamed, rupturing my eardrums. She ran towards Angel and the drag queen cried Mimi's name.

"You look so _good!_" Angel cried.

"What are you doing here?" Mimi asked, embracing her friend.

Angel completely ignored her. "I didn't know you'd be here with _Roger!_"

I took that in the worst way possible.

Then the sound of a roaring motorcycle was heard, and my eyes immediately locked in on them, the ninja that I was. "That's Maureen!" I cried giddily, too giddily, and Mimi looked at me like I was crazy. Then things _got _crazy—people screaming and clothing flying everywhere... I felt like it was an orgy or something, and I wanted fucking out.

The motorcycle stopped and then Mo was suddenly on the stage, like she fucking flew there or something, and then she put her hands up to stop the cheering that I was unaware was happening. I was beginning to get uneasy. If Benny was on the case... and the cops... and _Maureen_...

Oh, shit.

What have I gotten myself into?

I kept trying to edge away from where I was, but Collins kept his hands against my back firmly, not allowing me to leave. _Poyfect. _Now I'm fucking stuck here, my ninja self, in a nonsafe environment! This was not good, and I was going to get claustrophobic, and I was going to—

Oooh! Pretty lights! "Last night, I had this dream," said the Mo-dawg. "I was in a desert called..." _Yes, YES? What was it CALLED?! _"...Cyberland." Oooh. Intense. "It was hot; my canteen had sprung a leak and I was—" _Yes, YES? What were you?!_ "Thirsty." Oooh. Intense. "Out of the abyss walked a cow," _Yes, YES? What was this cow? _"Elsie." Oooh. Inte—_wait, _am I repeating myself or something?

"I asked if she had anything to drink," Maureen continued, "she said, 'I'm forbidden to produce—milk! In Cyberland, we only drink—Diet Coke.'"

I laughed. Why? Because it was so true. To this day Mark refuses to drink anything but it. Well, aaaaand alcoholic beverages. Like that time we got drunk and the Hot Plate—

I shivered.

_Don't think about it._

Then, it hit me—THE ROOM WAS ECHOING! God, this was SCARY! I needed to get out of here! "She said, 'Only thing to do is jump over the moon.'" Her voice was sweet and smooth, sort of like Mark's legs after he shaves them. "'They've closed everything real down like barns, and troughs, and... perfooooooormance spaces! And replaced it all with lies, and rules, and... virtual life.'"

It echoed again, and I started to freak out a bit. "Roger, calm down," Collins whispered into my ear, and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"'But there is a way out—'"

Something struck me then. COLLINS WAS HOLDING MY HAND! GAH! I am a straight man, dammit, and I'm pretty sure Angel would've gotten pretty offended!

But then I looked over... and Mimi and Angel were standing PRETTTTTTY DARN CLOSE! Oh, my GOSH, Collins and Angel—they were—they were... they were SPIES! Sent to break me and Mimi up! Oh, my snickerdoodle, why hadn't I figured this out BEFORE?! Quickly, I got closer to Mimi and pulled her away from Angel, snuggling into her.

Holy shit, what was Mo _doing?_ "IIIIIIIIIII've gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta _gotta _gotta gotta gotta FIND A WAAAAAY to jump ooooover the moon!"

That's... nice.

There were a few more minutes of her speaking and me staring at the dazzling lights and her cowbell, which managed to disappear just like the lady on the train and Mark's crazy cup when we first met Angel, and I was starting to think that I was in some sort of new dimension. The fifth one? Nah, I wasn't in the Twilight Zone—I wasn't _that _fucked up... maybe I was in the thousandth dimension!

WOAH! Mo was sucking some serious cock... "'Climb on board,' she said."

Woah—who said? Joanne? I hate coming in on conversations at the wrong time—like this one time, Mark was talking, and all of a sudden I come in, and he's saying, "Yeah, I lost my virginity to a food processor—" and just like that I'd turned around and left the room, trying to get such senile thoughts from my mind.

"Moo with me," Mo said, grinning like an idiot.

One guy did in the back.

Mark, way over where he was, jerked his head back, his facial expression reading, _Did someone just moo?_

Oh yes, Mark. Someone did, in fact, just moo.

And that guy... WAS ME!

TRUE! I ran like a good little ninja all the way back there and then teleported back next to Mimi, and she NEVER NOTICED. It was fan-FREAKING-tastic. Yes, yes, I know you are so jealous of my—

OH MY GOSH. The cops—they were—they were moving... and... and—OH MY GOD HE JUST WHACKED THAT GUY WITH THE NIGHTSTICK! Oh, man, oh—this was war.

All of a sudden, me and Mimi were moving back—thanks to my cattastic reflexes—and I was calling out, "Collins!" trying to lead him in the wrong direction. I had just enough time to watch Angel whoop some ass—you go, girl—and then he was following me. I tried to lose him—tried to—but it was no use.

Once we were out of the Space, we practically _ran _to the Life Café, hoping that Maureen and Joanne and Mark and... well... the rest of our friends that we abandoned were going to follow suit.

See? I almost get KILLED in a fucking RIOT—_this _is why we never leave the house, my friends. It's as simple as that.

**A/N: **God! Sorry, long update time. Well, since this kind of sucked without Sara's humor, we're gonna write LVB: Roger's End ASAP, along with "Rent: Roger's Rant"... XD and our new story "The Spiffy Mind of Roger Davis."

Hooray!

Review?

–Steph.


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